Tenno Tales
by nicrt
Summary: A series of stories of different squads and clans, of both 'Frames and Operators; a chronicle of their adventures through void and space. Read well Tenno, and maybe you'll learn a thing or two about their beginnings and also, from their endings.
1. Way of the Weapon: Child's Play

**Disclaimer:** Characters/factions/items that were not mentioned/owned by DE or the Warframe franchise belong to me. I do not own any characters/factions/items that do belong to the said franchise (e.g Lotus).

 **A/N:** Since the Second Dream's release, it should be noted that this will contain **SPOILERS** for those who have not played it through yet. Admittedly, I've only recently got back into the game, so I might not get some details right. Still, for those who do know of the quest, it's my take on how the Tenno and Warframe system works so if it gets confusing, let me know ^^" Otherwise, enjoy!

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 **Way of the Weapon: Child's Play**

The Mesa he's with, is true to frame; lean and quick, rolling with energy and releasing volleys of bullets. She's got her guns out as soon as she dropped from the ventilation shaft they were in, instantly shooting at everything that wasn't Tenno or Warframe.

 _Maybe she's one of the Madurai too_ , a child's voice mused through his mind, young in sound but wise in tone.

The Madurai were known for charging headfirst into battle with no fear or worry, as one of the Schools they had recently rediscovered when he had rescued her.

 _Engage the Enemy_ ; _we're good at that too aren't we?_ , there was a smile in her voice when she spoke.

Energy flowed through him then, thundering through veins and bones and metal, spreading to the tips of his fingers. The nikana in his hands surge with energy; the Excalibur jumped down into the fray, tip of the blade pointed down. His sword glowed in the same energy emitted from his being, and as he stabbed it into the ground; ethereal javelins appeared in the air then pierced into every enemy he had accounted for.

Twelve Grineer (Butchers, Ballistas and Bombards), hung flimsily from the walls before they were dropped unceremoniously down onto the floor. Some of them got up, and were quickly put down with a succession of bullets from his Burston. In the corner of his vision, more troops filed through an opened door. A switch from his primary to his melee later, another course of energy flowed through him, this time igniting his nikana into his Exalted Blade. Running towards the group, he cut down and past each one of them, his blade singing for blood.

In the back of his mind, beyond the calls of death the Grineer enjoyed shouting at them, he recalled the blaring sound of an alarm. Now, with the mangled bodies of the clones at his feet, it was deathly quiet.

 _So they do make their Primes better_. A deeper voice, boyish but mature.

Excalibur turned his head to his companion, Mesa's gun twirling about her fingers until she holstered it. She leaned on one leg, hand on one hip and tilted her head.

Neither 'Frames spoke.

 _A Prime but still a Warframe_ , he heard her argue, _we're all Tenno here._

 _So you say,_ Mesa crossed her arms in front of her torso as the other Tenno spoke, _but not all of us could pick a Prime._

 _Don't be jealous_ , she snapped.

This was not going to end well.

 _What a Madurai thing to do; jumping into conclusions,_ he retorted, _and for the record I am Zenurik._

Movement at their peripheral had them whipping their weapons out, Mesa with her guns and Excalibur his blades. A lone Lancer walked through one door, seemingly unaware of the poised dangers until he looked up. A cry would have escaped it, if a metal arrow hadn't embedded itself into it's throat and made him hang like a doll on the wall.

 _The both of you are so_ noisy, a Wukong dropped in after them from the ventilation above, his Operator sounding much displeased at her friend, _that I'm surprised we haven't been found yet._

 _Shut it Jun_ , the Mesa holstered her weapon as her Operator grumbled back. _And they can't even hear us so why bother_ not _shouting?_

 _'Cos you're loud and_ we, Wukong gestured to the three of them, _can hear you?_

Excalibur looked back, towards the opposite platform where they were from. The trail of bodies they had left behind there vanished into blue particles; he looked up and perched atop of a wire was Ivara with her bow. She faced him, with that singular lighted circle like an eye, and nodded at him. He nodded back then waved at his friend, as their Operators continued with their squabbles.

 _Best we move on, all of you,_ Ezra voiced; Ivara quickly fired another line onto the opposite platform, jumping onto it to tip toe down towards them. When she reached them, Ezra continued, _Lotus wants those engineers rescued sooner rather than later._

All four Warframes nodded to each other, a harmonious silence that each one were accustomed to. Back then, it had been nothing but quiet exchanges and some times frantic gestures during missions. The only voices they listened to had only been the Lotus's and their respective Cephalons. Things were… a little different now.

 _Tell Miss Madurai here that I'm not jealous of her Prime first._

 _Tell the Zen that Prime or not, it doesn't matter._

 _Why are you fighting about this again Tol?_

 _It was just an observation Jun! The Mad here thinks it's an insult and then…,_ a snort from Tol, _got mad._

 _Hilarious Tol,_ Jun deadpanned, _and you had implied it, Tol._

 _Did not, Jun._

 _Ezra, tell them to apologise!_

 _Mina, say you're sorry. Tol, say you're sorry. Now can we get on with the mission before I leave all of you behind?_

Ezra sounded irked. Ivara glanced towards Excalibur expectantly, tilting her head in a way that made it seem like she was glaring at Mina. Awkwardness placed itself into the chatter, until Tol broke it.

 _Fine._ Mesa shrugged a shoulder up towards Excalibur, an apology on her part for Tol's behaviour.

 _Fine, M_ ina agreed, disgruntled. Quietly, so that only he could hear, she said, _Don't you dare laugh._

He would if he could; things were much quieter before he could hear bickering children in the background. Now Excalibur listened in amusement as they all argued and made noisy interactions with one another.

 _Thank the Lotus._ Wukong then sprinted ahead, flying through the door as purple energy glittered after him. _Last one to extraction is a rotten Threshcone!_

A series of more complaints and calls echoed in each Warframe's mind, as they continued on with their mission with mild amusement over their Operators child personas. Excalibur wondered briefly what any of their foes would think, if they knew that the deadly Tenno were just children. Probably ashamed he thought, seeing as they were all bested by a bunch of brats.

 _Not brats,_ Mina pouted at him.

No not brats, he agreed.

But close enough.


	2. Stalk You, Stalk I: The Brothers

**Disclaimer:** Characters/factions/items that were not mentioned/owned by DE or the Warframe franchise belong to me. I do not own any characters/factions/items that do belong to the said franchise (e.g Lotus).

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 **Stalk You, Stalk I:** **The Brothers by the Garden**

The other children were all dressed in magnificent articles; gold trimmed and white laced, the finest silk and softest wool. Their wrists and necks were adorned with glittering gems and shiny metals, whilst they tittered behind their equally (if not more) grand parents.

Mod looked at his own clothing, his fingers picking at the lint on his sleeve. They were dull from overuse, greyed and old; a tear that's been stitched up was found at the knees of his pants. He grimaced at the memory of his mother's reprimand, of what would the others think of them now with such an ugly mark. Not that it'll matter now, since her passing happened a summer ago.

A pouch dropped onto his lap then, the tinkling of coins can be heard inside. Mod could only gape at the velvet thing before he looked up, grinning, at his older brother.

Arthur smiled back and sat down next to him.

"Where'd you get _coins_ out of all things Art?" Mod whispered, feeling excited; coins were a rare currency to come by, often traded amongst the Black Unders for other rarities.

Arthur shrugged, his dirty blond fringe falling into his eyes. "I salvaged them from this one guy." He tugged at the thong holding his short ponytail up, tightening it. "He didn't really need it I figured."

"Was he dead?"

"Maybe."

"Cool."

Arthur smiled, and wiped his grimy hands on his equally dirty shirt. If they had a choice, Mod would have traded the coins for newer clothes, maybe for even one of the grander kinds. But food and water were more important, and the other coins would be exchanged for proper credits and then deposited into their banks; if only to save up for when they're leaving home.

Leaving home...it seemed more like a distant dream than a goal in mind. He thought about their plans they had made when their father left them, married more to the life of a military's general than to a wife's life companion. He thought about their late and once-bedridden mother, with the deadly coughing fits of the poor and not the old. He thought about the burns and singes to his brother's clothes and hands when returning from a day at the furnaces and grid lines, payed four credits an hour for his age. He thought about the news of the war going on, on the call for the young and youth to join the ranks of their warriors. He thought of the day when he'll turn sixteen summers and when he'll finally leave for the military.

Without warning, a finger had flicked itself across Mod's forehead. "HEY!", he rubbed furiously at the stinging mark, "What was that for?"

"You were thinking again." Arthur replied nonchalantly.

"Am I not allowed to think?" He asked, incredulous.

"You're only ten-summers old. That's not old enough for thinking to be allowed."

"What makes being a twelve-winters old different then?"

Arthur gave a small smile. "It makes me the older brother. Let the older brother do the thinking; the younger one should still dream."

Things were quiet after; the sounds of the gardens engulfed them in peaceful embrace. Kubrows chased after their owners, Sentinals hummed in the shadows and the Orokin elites ignored the dirty brothers sitting by the fountains.

When the sky reddened with the setting sun, Arthur nudged at him. "C'mon Mod. Let's go home."

Little Modred followed his older brother home, wriggling his small hand into his sibling's slightly bigger one. And he dreamt of stars and space, of ships and battles; of how he and his brother were going to be more than the poor boys at the gardens, of how they'll be decorated and honoured warriors of the Empire.

They were going to be the best the Orokin has ever seen.


	3. Way of the Weapon: Monkey See, Monkey Do

**Disclaimer:** Characters/factions/items that were not mentioned/owned by DE or the Warframe franchise belong to me. I do not own any characters/factions/items that do belong to the said franchise (e.g Lotus).

 **Warning:** Since the Second Dream's release, it should be noted that this will contain **SPOILERS** for those who have not played it through yet.

 **A/N:** This...is hopefully not a filler. I do want to approach the topic on the Tenno's and Warframe's relationships with one another, so I might expand more on it. It's not so much a story, as it is a study on the dynamics. Nontheless, I hope you all enjoy this!

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 **Way of the Weapon** : Monkey See, Monkey Do

Jun was friends with _everyone_.

When they first met contact with the Tol-Mesa duo, they were less friendlier than they actually were. They refused their help, opting to go about their own way. Only on a spy mission gone wrong did they begrudgingly asked for help; now they were stuck with Jun's wisecracks and his own nefarious pranks.

They met Mina-Excalibur and Ezra-Ivara after the Stalker fiasco. They were called on to help with a survival mission, protecting one of he many Tenno pods scattered in the system. When all was dead and done, Jun kept in contact with them, often joining in on their own missions.

The Shadow Squad was Wukong's favourite people: a Loki, an Ash and a Banshee, rolled into one fiesta. They often kept scores on who'd get the most stealth kills, raced on who'd reach the databases first and then wrecked havoc about enemy base. Currently he held the highest scores- _no you don't_ , Jun ground out- details, details.

Then there was little brother Ming and Nezha. _The babies_ , as Tol liked to call them. Well it wasn't exactly their fault...Ming had been one of the youngest during the Zariman incident. Jun, being who she was, took the little boy under her wing; he in turn, took Nezha as a complimentary 'frame to Wukong.

He digressed but it wasn't an understatement, Wukong knew. She really was that friendly with any Tenno she met. It was her personality, which bled with his own, the trickster in him. She was happy-go-lucky and outspoken, whilst he was deviously funny. It made them the perfect team, pre-Stalker-teamed-up-with-Hunhow era.

When he first met Jun...he was horrified. The sudden loss of her spirit from his own, the emptiness left when she pulled out. It was a feeling worse than death, a missing piece of his being and he didn't know what to do. But then he saw her...and she was beautiful.

The energy that sparked within her and the gentleness in her expressions. The glow in her eyes when she smiled, the slight tilt of her head in amusement when he does his tricks...just...wow.

 _Focus please_ , Jun mused.

 _Right_ , Wukong responded, and unleashed an Iron Jab at the Corpus group before him. _Sorry_.

 _You can profess my undying love to me later_ , she laughed.

Pfft. Love? No, he didn't see her the way Lotus saw them. But undying? That bit was true.

He would have burnt the whole galaxy down for her.


End file.
